


"Summer Camp"

by WithywindlesDaughter



Series: The Fili Stories [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, Tolkien - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, Tube Socks, end of the 1970s - start of the 1980s, feathered hair, no technology whatsoever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter/pseuds/WithywindlesDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have noticed a very vocal part of the fandom the feels need for more Fili. Not only more Fili but all Fili all of the time. I can do that. Presenting a little series called "The Fili Stories".</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Summer Camp"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreenSorceress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenSorceress/gifts).



> The most challenging part of writing this was remembering everything we didn't have. No home computers, no VCRs, no microwaves. Also, remembering what we did have - short-sorts, tube socks, pukka shell necklaces, big gas guzzling muscle cars. TheGreenSorceress kept me moving in the right direction and nearly made me wet myself in public laughing over things like the wiff-wiff sound corduroy pants make when you walk in them. So I dedicate this work to her!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**The Fili Stories**

**“Summer Camp”**

**by WithywindlesDaughter**

  
  
  
  


Fili Durinson pulled his dark gold Chevy SS 454 off the main highway and into the little shopping center at Indigo Bush, the last stop to shop and buy gas before driving up the road to camp. He had several old coolers that needed stocked with ice and non-camp foods and much beer. And as a Head Counselor it was his responsibility to govern the purchase and distribution of harder alcohol, necessitating a hefty supply of rum. The Head of the Girls Cabins would likewise be purchasing the ingredients for fruitier margaritas and mixed drinks. Somewhere in the middle they would meet.

At twenty he was in college with little in the way of obligation and a whole world of open opportunity ahead of him. He had worked at the camp since high school, earning enough money to buy a car his parents disapproved of but his friends admired and girls had no problem climbing into. Now the job helped pay for his courses at the local city college where he studied to open his own contracting business and get in on the new home building boom in California. 

He pulled in and parked - hardly any customers today but soon it would be full of kids and parents going up the hill. There was more than one camp out there - taking advantage of the cheap land and wide open spaces. Parents from the suburbs and city had a wide choice of where to send their kids to so they weren’t rumbling around bored all summer. Usually kids campaigned to go where their friends were going unless they got shunted off to one of the church camps. The  _ “Wandering W Western Ranch” _ had the advantage of catering to local scout troops on the weekends during the school year so parents felt comfortable sending their kids out for the summer dude ranch environment of dirt, scabs and horse manure. 

Fili grabbed his list and his wallet off the seat and switched off the car’s 8-track, killing the sound of the Beach Boys Pet Sounds. Standing up he stretched after the long drive and then tugged his white socks up to his knees. His white t-shirt had an orange “Levis” logo on the front and matching piping around the arms and neck. His golden hair was the bane of his mother’s existence (he had caught her looking at him from the bathroom with her hair scissors in her hand more than once). His one concession had been to have it trimmed to just below shoulder length and have the sides feathered out, but he kept the handlebar mustache. Now his bright blue eyes sparkled in the heat - it was going to be a good summer.

 

**********

 

He arrived at the employee gate kicking up a long tail of dust under his tires. He needed to get to his cabin and unload before pulling the SS into one of the prime parking spaces and getting the cover on it. Tomorrow the other counselors would start arriving and Friday would see countless station wagons, big sedans and even a few motor homes buzzing around as campers unloaded and he wanted to be comfortable long before then. But then a glance over towards the office showed a blue and white Land Rover with a “Painted Acres” logo parked outside the door and he sighed. “Crap.” That meant the camp coordinator from the high-end camp for rich families down the road was making his pre-summer visit to compare activities schedules and for general purposes aggravation of his coordinator, Linda. 

He drove his car down to the largest cabin on the boy’s side and parked. From there it was a quick hike up to the office. He sprinted up the trail made of railroad ties and packed earth, careful to avoid low-hanging tree branches and emerged an easy jog from his destination. He straightened himself out before knocking on the door and walking inside. 

This office was probably the only “business-like” space in the whole camp. It was where all the files were kept, forms to be filled out, notices about wildlife, pool rules and no smoking. It was really for the benefit of the parents with a proper metal desk and real chairs that didn’t fold up. Sitting behind said desk was a formidable-looking woman with a neutral scowl on her face. She was not a small woman with her dark hair tied up into a tight bun at the back of her neck and who wore faded jeans, western boots with a lot of wear on them and a grey t-shirt that read “Wandering W Ranch - The Old West Close to Home” with the tipsy “W” brand.

Across the desk in a well-padded guest chair sat a severe-looking man wearing pleated khaki slacks, a black polo shirt and short hair. He was holding a clipboard in one hand and a silver automatic pencil in the other. His name was Rod and Fili had never liked the man - his kids arrived by private bus, they got their food and ice delivered and they traded their school horses out every few years. Rod usually took advantage of this visit to update Linda on the camp improvements they were making, like a gymnasium or new swimming pool, things the “W” couldn’t afford and wouldn’t have done anyway. All it served to do was make Linda grumpy and a grumpy Linda was a bad thing.

“Linda!” he said merrily as he walked in. He strode over to the desk and landed a big wet one on her cheek along with a shoulder hug. Then he walked around and plunked his butt down on the front corner of the desk, effectively putting himself between them. “Rodney.”

“Philip.” It was clear the dislike was mutual. Beautiful, golden and well-liked, Fili was everything this man wasn’t. Who wore pants like that to horse camp anyway? Fili reached out and propped one foot up on a spare chair in what could be charitably called an ungracious move. They squinted at each other for a few moments until Rod tapped his pencil on his clipboard. “Linda, I think we’re covered here.”

“Well, two of us are anyway,” Linda quipped, flicking a red rubber band at Fili’s back. “I’ll get my staff up to date as they come in.”

As they heard the sound of the Land Rover coasting away Fili snorted out a laugh as Linda shoved him off the desk. “You idiot!” But she sounded happy when she said it.

“Anything we need to know this year?” he asked. “They shifting out all the desert tortoises to make room for a new riding arena?”

“Stop…” She gave him a look. “We’re lucky this year. We’ll only be sharing the Lake with them.”

“I’m going to teach my boys to pee in the water.”

“Now look you!”

The afternoon dissolved away in activities schedules and cabin assignments. Really it was pretty much the same every year, the only thing changing were the campers who got older and moved up the cabin hierarchy. All the rest was routine.

“Hey, I’ve still gotta get my car unloaded.” Fili plunked the cabin roster back down on the desk. “Anyone else show up yet?”

“Nope, you’re the first. Go get unpacked and maybe Jess will get here. You can bust out the Weber and do burgers for dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan!” He started for the door. “Can I stash a few things in your fridge?”

“Define a few! And no beer - the JCs will get into it!”

He cackled madly as he went out across the compound towards the cabin. The first thing he did was unload the ice chests into the counselor's room and stash the alcohol. (Counselors got their own private room, JCs slept with the kids.) He inspected his bunk (the largest with no bed over it) and flipped the foam pads, throwing on sheets and sleeping bags. His trunk holding his clothing, car magazines, camera, film, shaving kit, towels and condoms slid under his bed and he snapped a small padlock on the front, the key on the same ring as his car keys and bottle opener. 

Then he moved the Chevy to the parking area, pulling in next to Linda’s old Datsun. They had long learned to throw a cover over their cars to keep the dirt that attached itself to everything away from their paint jobs. Senior staff were up in the front row, where their cars would sit for the remainder of the summer unless the went down the hill for supplies. Otherwise they had the ranch’s pickup trucks to rattle around in. 

Next he did a quick walk-around, just to scope out the camp. The maintenance man who lived in a trailer with his wife on the back end of the property had come by and taken the plywood off the windows and doors of the cabins - put there to keep racoons and other animals from moving in. The horses all looked happy, if a bit old and careworn (not that the campers cared) and the fences were all standing. In the distance he could hear the sound of a tractor and he made a mental note to go up and check the hay storage. Working his way back up he had a quick look at the “Counselor’s Office”, a non-descript little building they were supposed to use for official duties but mostly just partied in at night. He had a lot of plans for that space this summer. 

Finally he wound his way through the small animal compound to Linda’s private quarters. The compound was built to mimic the look of an old western fort, so there was a “lookout tower” on the back corner that had been converted to a reasonable comfortable apartment for the Camp Director. She was one of the few people who had the luxury of privacy at the camp. In the room beneath her quarters was the equipment and food for the small animals - goats, chickens, rabbits, as well as other various sundry items, such as the domed Weber grill and items that went with it. He hauled it out to the middle of the compound and opened the lid, evicting several spiders who thought the dome was prime real estate. He decided it could use a good pre-emptive scrubbing and was about to go looking for a brush and some dish soap when he heard the sound of a car pulling up nearby.

Dropping what he was doing he trotted out to the gate to see a little orange Gremlin kicking up dust on its way towards the girls cabins. “Yes!” He kicked it into gear and trotted down the path.

The little car wound down the road until it reached the senior girl’s cabin and parked in front of the porch. The driver’s door popped open and a young, blond woman in Dolphin shorts and a Farrah Fawcett haircut climbed out. She reached back to click off the radio - silencing Abba and “Dancing Queen” while she grabbed several bags off the front passenger seat. She almost dropped them when she turned around to find a beautiful man with blond hair leaning over her, his hands on the car. “Hey, Jess!”

“Oh, Fili!” She aimed a kick at his shin. “You idiot!”

“I missed you.”

She slid out from under his arms. “Missed you, too,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the cabin. “Carry the heavy stuff for me.”

He snorted a laugh out and opened the hatch to start pulling her ice chests out to carry to the cabin. Her room was much the same as his was, with a solo bed for the Head Counselor. She was inspecting it as he finished stowing her gear. “You know,” he helped her flip the pads. “No one else is up here yet. We have some time.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “I have to go see Linda, we should go up the hill and say hello to the Wilsons and then you are running the BBQ for dinner.” That was what she was trying to say, but he was kissing the side of her neck and it was really hard to get the words out.

“I haven’t seen you in months,” he breathed into her skin. He leaned in, tipping her back on the bunk, hands under her knees.

“I’m not going up to the house looking like I’ve just been ravaged by your little storm trooper!” she finally managed. 

“He not little!” Fili protested as she pushed him back. First day at the cabin was always like this - the unfettered privacy proving to be a tremendous distraction. 

“We’ll have time later.” She jumped off the bunk and grabbed her keys and backpack. “Did you do a walkaround?”

“Yeah,” he followed her to the car. Everything’s good. Can I drive?”

“No way!” she laughed. 

“Awwww…! Rodney’s already been here to piss Linda off.” Fili slid into the passenger seat and started fiddling with the radio.

“Stahp!” she swatted at his hands. “Let me park this. We can take one of the trucks up the hill.” 

He helped her get the cover on the Gremlin before going back to cleaning the Weber. “Why do they even make a cover for this car?” (His cheek earning him a swat on the ass.) By the time Jess and Linda were done he had both hot dogs and burgers going on the grill.

“I have chicken in the fridge,” Linda commented.

“What do you have against red meat?” Fili griped. He could hear Jess laughing at him as potato salad, and baked beans appeared. Linda produced some cold cans of Fresca which Fili eyed with suspicion. “RC Cola for me, please.”

All-in-all it turned into a pretty satisfying meal, the last peaceful they were going to get for some time. When they were done and the trash cleared away Linda patted Fili on the shoulder. “Grab a truck. Let’s go up the hill.”

“I’m driving!” he waved the keys.

“I’ve seen you drive!” Linda called after him.

They crammed into the bench seat of an old Ford and rolled up the hill to where the main house and rec center sat. The owners of the ranch lived up here in a spacious building that was more one-story lodge than house. 

“Carol?” Linda called out. “Jess and Fili are here!”

There were no less than three black and tan german shepherd dogs asleep in front of the hearth that wagged their tails when they walked in and the owner, a woman older than all of them came out to hug them.

“Welcome back you two,” she embraced each of them. “Linda tells me we will be without your brother this summer!”

Fili and Jess pulled up heavy, hide-covered chairs and sat down. “He’s at drama camp this year,” Fili said. “They’re going to put on a big musical. He’s been taking classes for two years at school.”

Carol waved that off. “Well at least one of you has good sense.”

“Thank you,” Fili replied.

“Not you! I mean our Jessica here!” she patted Jess’ hand. “Tell me about nursing!” They happily discussed the RN courses Jess was taking when Bob walked in with Linda. Fili noted they were wearing matching blue denim outfits.

Fili stood to shake hands. “Hey Bob!”

“Hey Mr. Contractor!” Bob had a weathered face with short hair and an impressive handlebar mustache, his cowboy hat matched his wife’s. He had been the first person to give Fili responsibility beyond his years - teaching him to drive the tractor and teaching him to fire his big Winchester rifle (in case of bears). He also gave Fili his first hard drink and spun miles of advice on women and horses, considering one to be much like the other. 

They sat and absorbed the collective knowledge of the Wilsons until the cocktails Linda was spinning out from the bar made them sleepy. “I’ll load some bales into the truck and do the evening feed,” she promised them. 

“And you two are helping!” she told Jess and as they walked back to the truck. “Fili can toss while you top off the water.”

Fili stumped along obstinately, doing a little running kickstart to propel himself into the back of the truck. He really didn’t want to spend the rest of the daylight flinging hay and bouncing around in the truck bed, but then at least the Wilsons wouldn’t be down the hill, taking an interest in what their senior counselors were doing. His little storm trooper told him to stop whining.

 

*********

 

 

Finally they managed to get back to the cabins and begged off an offer of drinks in the tower. Fili tried to steer Jess towards his cabin. “And now to bed!”

“Let’s go to mine,” she answered. “All my stuff is there and it’s closer to the showers.

“Be right back!” He made a dash back to his bunk where he grabbed a pillow, his sleeping bag and some supplies from his trunk. 

By the time he got there she was down to bra and panties. “That’s my girl!”

“Your girl missed you a lot!” she answered. 

He smiled and climbed up on the bunk with her, all dimples and sparkly eyes. “Can I say hi?”

“You better!”

And so a fine and long tradition was carried on for another year and if they did make a few cracks in the wooden bunk it wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix with the tools from the office. And here we shall leave them - happy children, until next chapter. Coming soon! 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting more of these - I found I really enjoyed writing these. *Peeks out from window...* I will try to intersperse these with chapters of "Darkness". I promise! No, really!!!
> 
> ***Note: There are no bears anywhere near the summer camp. But if you do own one of those old vintage Winchesters you have to get out there and fire it. You know - because bears...


End file.
